Made From Broken Parts
by AmalieNico
Summary: Emily Ruby O'Neal was just living her life when it was turned upside down by the club. Thanks to a deal her father made when he was in prison. A deal Emily knew nothing of and now have to pay.
1. The Awakening

**Hello and welcome :)**

**Well this I my first story both related to SoA and , so go easy on me ;)**

**I know very well that my grammar sucks and right at the moment, I haven't got a Beta-reader. So if anyone would read proofread it send me a PM.**

**And if any of you have some suggestions with were the story plot should go, just write to me or leave a review with your suggestion(s), then I will try my best to incorporate it in my story.**

**I most of the chapter I will use some lyrics and in the end I will write the name of the song and the artist, just to let you reader know :)  
**

**And by the way I don't own anything, except for my OC - Emily.  
**

**Enjoy reading C:**

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Ouch... Oh God my head was pounding...

Reminder to myself: Never, ever drink that much, ever again, Emily!

I twisted and turned in the large comfy double bed – I was sure that a couple of hours would do great to this bad hangover. I snuggled into the soft pillows and mattress. It had a distinctive smell of gasoline, grease and smoke.

Gasoline? Grease? And smoke?! This was for certain not my bed! Even though I must admit that it was the best night sleep, I have had in a very long time - but let's leave that for now. I opened my eyes wide open, and what I was seeing, was stars and stripes. The American flag was hovering above my head. The exact same flag that represented the country that had failed to protect my family, when it needed protection the most

Voices that were what I heard - voices of two males, one slightly angry and one more calm than the first one.

"What the hell are you going to do with that... That girl?!" Yelled the angry voice.

"Oh Clay that's up for me to decide, after all it was my plan." The calm voice said.s

"Your plan or not. If shit goes down, the club has to deal with the aftermath! So you better get it right the first time - 'cause I know the club won't be pleased if shit explodes in your face... Our faces!" It was a threat, it wasn't just one of those warnings you get from your family, no it was a proper threat! And the man Clay talked to should be scared as fuck. If this calm guy didn't get it right, the... mm... Club? Yeah, the club would handle it. Rather, they would find a way to handle... me! I think, 'cause why else would I be here?

I was going to find a way out of this room, out of this house! I wasn't going to stay a minute more in this crazy house.

Okay Emily, first thing first! If the angrier man was Clay, then what was the name of the calmer man? Not that it mattered to me, a kidnapper were after all a kidnapper.

I looked around to see if there was anything I could use to defend myself or somewhere I could hide. But before I could act, the door's lock made a noise, a noise that indicated the door was now open, and the room which I was in, was ready, for the person on the other side of the door, to enter.

I quickly turned my back, so it faced the door, and then I pretended I still was sleeping. The door opened slowly, I could tell so, because I heard the speakers.

_As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death  
I take a look at my life and realize there's nothin' left  
Cause I've been blasting and laughing so long,  
That even my mama thinks that my mind is gone_

The next I heard was a voice, the calm man's voice.

"Morning Darlin', brought some coffee and painkillers to your head."

All I did was produce a low moan, to indicate that I somehow still was alive and annoyed of being waken. But it was all a show, I heard every single word he said, but chose to pretend to be asleep.

The next thing I knew, was him shaking the bed to get me awaken.

"I know you're faking, so you better sit up and listen to what I have to say to you!" His voice was hoarse and commanding.

I did as he asked me to, I sat up in the big double-bed, and looked straight at him, and what I saw was these piercing ice blue eyes, at least I think they were ice blue. And I'm sure that if I kept holding his gaze, it would tear holes in my eyeballs. Whatever the color they were, the eyes were of a man, whose charm could be switched on and off like a light. What had just happened was clear evidence.

He passed me the coffee and the painkillers, and I took it willingly. I quickly put the painkillers in my mouth and swallowed them with some of the coffee. He was studying me; I could feel his gaze travel over my slightly covered body. The guy in front of me was not a bad-looking guy, and I'm sure the gaze somehow could be arousing, but not in the position I was in... Kidnapped, against my own will.

"Why am I here?!" I spat out, trying to keep my temper as low as possible.

"Well, you're Emily Ruby O'Neal, aren't you?" He asked, but from who or where did he know my full name?

"No, I am not..." I said, and I know right well that I was lying, but I had to lie, I had to fight somehow.

The next I heard was his mocking laugh... He laughed at me.

"Wh... Why are you laughing?" I asked in the most fake insecure voice I could perform.

Then abruptly I felt a sting on each side of my cheeks, he had grabbed my cheeks, to make sure that I looked at him, when he said the next thing.

"Well, how about you stop lying to me?!" He said angrily, and the former calm voice was now long gone. "I know exactly who you are, and what you do for a living!" He continued in the menacing voice, while his grip tightened gradually. "We'll try this again." He looked into my eyes, with this look that if I lied once more, he would do unforgivable things. "Are you or are you not the mentioned Emily Ruby O'Neal?!"

I nodded slightly, while he still kept my face in the same tight hold as before, and said "I am, why?". As I asked the question he tightened the grip on my cheeks, while saying "It's me who asks the questions Darlin'!". I just nodded at his statement, and he continued asking questions. "Your daddy and the club had a deal, but since your daddy's gone and so are your mommy, then you're the only one who can pay the debt, and so you will." He talked like he knew both my mother and father.

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**The inspiration to the title is from the song "We are", by Hollywood Undead**

**And the lyrics used in this chapter is from the song "Gangsta's Paradise", by Coolio.**

**If you like this chapter please leave a review to let me know :) Or just follow or favourite, if you like that part more :)**


	2. Memories

**Wow, it was really overwhelming to see 1 review and both followers and favourites :) THANKS a lot, really!**

**And thanks to: Emmettluver2010 for the review. :)**

**In the middle there will be a flashback, I hope you all get it and that it's obvious it's a flashback :)**

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_"Your daddy and the club had a deal, but since your daddy's gone and so are your mommy, then you're the only one who can pay the debt, and so you will." He talked like he knew both my mother and father._

_This world can turn me down but I won't turn away  
And I won't duck and run 'cause I'm not built that way  
When everything is gone there's nothing there to fear  
This world cannot bring me down, no 'cause I'm already here_

My mom and dad… Oh how I missed them, but he was right, they weren't alive anymore. I had buried both of them years ago; six feet under the ground. How did my dad manage to make a deal with the devil and his associates? It didn't sound like something my dad would do. He knew that these people were dangerous, and so did both my mother and I. Well the whole town and the town next to Charming, Lodi, knew that making deals with the Sons, were like making deals with the devil himself, and those deals would put you and your loved ones in great danger. And something my dad would never do, was to put my mom and I in a dangerous spot, but it seemed that I didn't know my dad well enough.

"Darlin' you were very hard to track down, but our Juice managed it…" His voice broke my trance. When he had my attention again, he let go of my cheeks. With an astonished voice I asked "Why? And how did you find me?"  
He smiled at my question, a rather pretty and charming smile, but again in my position and where I was, I couldn't let my guard down. And besides when I was in high school, all I heard about him was how unpleasant and arrogant he was, and how he went from one bed to another.  
"It turned out that your dad was very protective of you. Well, we knew he had a daughter, but how old you were or how you looked, we didn't know. You showed up on our radar three years ago." He smiled a wry smile, because he knew that it was three years ago my dad died and after his death my mom had other thing to be occupied with. Then he continued. "You do for sure remember when your dad was in prison, Stockton Prison, well Darlin' we had a pleasant talk with him. And it turned out that he couldn't provide for his little family, which included you and your mom…"  
I looked at him, like he had grown an extra head or something weirder. I couldn't believe what he was telling me. My dad asking some notorious criminals for help! This couldn't be true.  
The next I knew was me shaking my head in disbelief.

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_And if I only could,  
Make a deal with God,  
And get him to swap our places,_

I was in the waiting room at Stockton Prison; this was one of my weekly visits – I was visiting my dad. I hated it; the prison, its prisoners and the guards. But I would do about anything for my dad, I loved him more than words could say, and I knew it was mutual. I was 13 years when my dad was arrested, I still don't know for what he was arrested for, but he pleaded guilty. I was now 17 years old and was hoping for my dad to be released on parole.

"Miss O'Neal?" A faint voice said. "Miss O'Neal?!"

I lightly shook my head and said "Sorry, I was just daydreaming." Yeah, dreaming of a better place to be in and that place included a free dad. I got up from the chair; I was sitting on, and followed the prison guard. After I had been searched, for illegal goods, I was lead to a huge room, with lots of tables. And in the middle of it all, I saw my dad – He was worn out and looked a lot older than used to.

All I wanted to do was to run into his arms, and give him a hug, but I knew that I couldn't – strict rules created by Stockton Prison, but for me to follow.

"Dad, how are you? You look worn out." I sat in front of him, noticing the same way they had tied his hands and feet – they were bound together under the table, with chains.

My dad looked at me, with this remote gaze and a sad smile "Oh, baby don't you worry, I'm completely fine, and in no time we will be a happy family again." The thought of us being a happy family again made me smile "Yeah I like that." I said, and then asked. "How is prison treating you?"

"Well, the food is crap, the guards are even worse – I try to keep my slate clean. But I'm happy you're not the one in here."

I looked suspicious at my dad, and asked "Why? I will take your spot any day, if only I had the chance."

"Oh baby, this place – these people, they will corrupt your beautiful soul." That was all he said before he asked "How is your mother?"

"Hmm… Well, she was fine when I left her at home, but dad I do believe that this, this with you in prison, tears her apart slowly."

"Miss O'Neal, it's time" A male voice, I barely knew, said. I knew what this meant, it meant that I had to leave, and our half hour was over – if I wanted I could return tomorrow or the day after tomorrow. But I didn't want another visit; all I wanted was for my dad to return home – They were tearing my family apart.

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"My dad was more dead than alive in that bloody cell!" I was muttering to myself. I looked at him, well I guess that I actually stared at him, tried to stare him down. I closed my eyes and wished him away, praying that if I wished hard enough, he would eventually disappear. But he didn't, I knew he wouldn't – not even after he got what he wanted.

"What did my dad borrow from you?" I asked with a fragile voice, the memory of my mom and dad's deaths were still very fresh in my memory.

"Money… He didn't only borrow from me, but he borrowed the whole club." He answered with a cold voice; you could somehow hear a small sense of empathy, but only a small one.

I opened my eyes again, and said vague "But I don't have any money… I don't have anything of value." As if it would help, but it wouldn't – he didn't give a shit about what I owned.

"Sweetheart, we both know that it's not quite true…"

"How much?!" My voice turned colder, I needed to know how long I was to live with the devil watching over me, watching every single step I made.

"30,000 dollars…" He said it as if it was nothing. And I was sure it wasn't, it wasn't the money that counted, but the deal. They didn't care a shit about money; they cared about whether you could keep your end of the bargain.

"I… I can't pay that…" I stuttered.

"Oh Sweetheart, don't you think we already know that?" He said it with a devilish smirk plastered on his face.

"But then why have you brought me here?" I couldn't imagine why they brought me to the club, if they were aware that I couldn't pay my father's debt.

"At your store you got some free space, both in the basement and at the attic. We want to use that space…"

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**Please review, follow or favourite :)**

**The two songs I used in this chapter is:**

**"Running Up That Hill", by Placebo**

**"Duck And Run", By 3 Doors Down.**

**Have you any suggestions on which kind of shop/store Emily owns? (If yes, just write it in a review or in a PM to me - It would be much appreciated) :D**

**Again if you have any other suggestions on what you want to happen in the story, just write a message to me with your idea :)**


	3. Embarrassed

**I'm so sorry for the long gap between chapters, but I had I shitty week. I was to start at the university, but already at the first day, I could feel it wasn't for me, so I dropped out. **

**But here's a new chapter so please enjoy!**

**Thank you ozlady80 for your review and thanks for helping me with the store-problem :) **

**It's overwhelming to see my story almost have 800 views! :D I'm a really happy girl!**

**Again: I don't own anything, besides my OC, Emily.**

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"_But then why have you brought me here?" I couldn't imagine why they brought me to the club, if they were aware that I couldn't pay my father's debt._

"_At your store you got some free space, both in the basement and at the attic. We want to use that space…"_

_In the dead of the night I start to lose control  
But I still carry the weight like I've always done before  
It gets so heavy at times but what more can I do  
I got to stay on track just like pops told me to_

"Go to hell for all I care!" I didn't need to know any more of what kind of storage they were looking for. They wanted to store guns, ammunition and other illegal goods. And illegal goods were the last thing I would have in my basement and at my attic. I knew that if they got busted, I would get busted too, and sent to jail. My father's words kept playing in my head, over and over again: _"Oh baby, this place – these people, they will corrupt your beautiful soul." _  
I refuse to go to prison, and especially if the Sons are to be the reason for me being in there.

I heard him laugh, he thought this funny? "You think you got a choice, don't you?" He was asking a question, while mocking me. "Well you don't." That was all he said.

"What… What is it that you want to store…?" Even though I knew what they wanted to store, this was all that escaped my lips.

"Don't you worry about that; that is for me to decide. The only thing you have to do is act like nothing is happening, when we deliver, and put a pretty smile on that face."

"How long…?"

"Oh babe, I'll tell you when it's all over. I'll tell you when you can leave." His voice had turned cold again, very cold. I could imagine how he in time would make me into his puppet. A fitting jester for the king; only for him to control. He continued, with a more caring voice. "How about you take a bath, you look quite horrible? And then I'll send Juice in with some dinner." He smiled a wry smile, while he pulled some red, dried substance out of my hair. My mouth opened slowly, not quite believing what it was. "Blood?!" I said, rather surprised. "Yeah, it's not as bad as you might think." He tried to calm me down. "Tig was a bit rough on you, but to his defence you put up a hell of a fight. To sum it all up, you hit your head on your kitchen table. Chibs checked your head, and there's nothing wrong – no major injuries." I looked at him, I wanted to yell at him, but I didn't dare. I was sure that he was playing a sick game, switching his mood on and off, just like when a child is playing with the light – on, off, on, off and so on.

"There're towels in the bathroom on the rack…" He got up from the bed and went to open the door, just about to leave, when he said: "By the way, there's a bag in the corner, with some of your clothes. We didn't know how bloody it would get, so…" and then he left. What was it I heard when the door was ajar? A child's voice? No, it was impossible. But what did the voice say – oh yeah that's right: "Grandma' when is daddy coming out?" Grandma'? Daddy? That boy was talking about Jax, and it must have been Jax's mother he was talking to.

I got up from the bed, but as soon as did so, my head got dizzy again. The painkillers Jax gave me, for sure hadn't worked yet. All I hoped for was that a long warm bath would help.

I looked around, and apart from the American flag on the wall, there weren't much in the room, but two bedside tables and a dresser. On the dresser there were some pictures; one of a woman with a white, grayish stripe, one of a man, standing with a very old motor bike and the last was of a toddler, probably his son. Next to the dresser there was a door, which I opened and behind the door was the bathroom. I stepped inside and closed the door, and I was prepared to lock it, but there wasn't any key in the keyhole. That smart bastard! Oh how I hated him!

Once I was stripped from my clothes, I stepped into the shower – turning on the hot water. Instantly it helped relaxing my muscles. I looked down at my feet, and I noticed the water was slightly pink – oh yeah I hit the counter top. I looked up at the ceiling, trying to relax a bit more. I pinched my arm, just to make sure this wasn't a bad dream, but it didn't do anything at all. Even though it wasn't the nightmare I was hoping for, but that didn't mean I was going down without a fight.

After I was done rinsing and shampooing my hair; I wringed it so most of the water was out. Then I took one of the towels that were nearby the shower, wrapping it around my body. I could feel water dripping down my back; I walked to the mirror to take a look at how bad_ I_ looked. Oh sweet Lord! I had pouched under my eyes, and small bruises forming on my arms. To say I outright: I looked like something the cat just had dragged in. I ran my fingers through my brown curly hair, using them as I comb. Green eyes looked right back at me, wishing I could stay inside here forever, or just until it was all over. Then I remembered that there was a bag full of clothes in the bedroom, oh how I wished it was all in here with me.

Before walking out, I secured the towel once more; just to be sure it wouldn't fall off. I took a deep breath and then opened the door. What I saw besides the bedroom I left 40 minutes earlier, was a Mohawk and tattoos, lots of tattoos – on both arms and on each side of the Mohawk. He looked at me briefly, before he looked away, his cheeks slightly pink. So chivalry wasn't all dead. I could feel the heat in my cheeks too, oh God this was embarrassing.

"Who are you? And what are you doing here?" I asked even though I knew I wasn't the one to demand answers. He looked at me, before answering: "I'm Juice, and I'm here with the dinner." His cheeks still slightly pink, and along with the pink cheeks was his boyish and goofy grin. That grin reassured one that he wasn't like the others, like Jax, and it told me that he was the 'lucky' bastard who was giving the task to babysit me.

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**The song used is: "Turn Blue" by The Black Keys.**

**Follow, Favourite and review - if you like :) **

**Again if you have any other suggestions on what you want to happen in the story, just write a message to me with your ideas :)**


	4. Questions

**Wow, last time I was near the 800 views, and now I'm near 1,500 views in total! Thanks to all of you guys! **

**And thanks to HorrorFan13 & mitzyspain, for the reviews :)**

**I don't own anything, besides from Emily!**

**Again: My grammar is not the best in the world, so bear over with me. **

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"_Who are you? And what are you doing here?" I asked even though I knew I wasn't the one to demand answers. He looked at me, before answering: "I'm Juice, and I'm here with the dinner." His cheeks still slightly pink, and along with the pink cheeks was his boyish and goofy grin. That grin reassured one that he wasn't like the others, like Jax, and it told me that he was the 'lucky' bastard who was giving the task to babysit me. _

_No one really wants to be  
Dealing with our misery  
Or hanging with your sympathy  
We only wanna jump the gun_

_No one really wants to be_  
_Dealing with our misery_  
_Or hanging with your sympathy_  
_Bringing out the worst in me_  
_We only wanna jump the gun_

"Jax mentioned a Juice, but I thought you'd come later…" I sounded disappointed. "'Cause this is a bit awkward…" Standing in front of a complete stranger, almost naked, well only wrapped in a towel that barely reached my knees. He looked me up and down, eyes lingering at certain places; an even bigger goofy grin replaced the first on. His cheeks turned from slightly pink to bright red, right now he was like a 12-year old schoolboy who had seen forbidden things. Then he turned towards the door, with his cut covered back facing me. "So chivalry isn't all dead in this God forsaking place?" I mumbled, but I knew I should've kept silent if Juice even had a temperament in the vicinity of Jax's. As I walked over to the bag full of my clothes, he said with joy in his voice "We're not all alike. Yeah Tig and Jax, hell even Clay got temperaments and act without thinking, but…" He laughed shortly, just like he told a joke or remembered a long lost forgotten memory, and then continued "boys are boys. You can't take that part from them." As he said the last part, I reached where the bag was placed, and I took it up, wanting to return to the bathroom to change into something more appropriate. Before I closed the door to the bathroom he said "Hope you like French fries and hamburger."

Once I was inside the bathroom again, I started looking through the bag, and ended up picking a black tank-top, some high-waist jeans and a pair of black ballerinas.

"What is it that you are creating, I mean the club…" I asked through the closed door.

I heard him laugh again, but not a laugh like Jax's cold laugh, no it was like I told him something incredible funny. "We're living in anarchy… We're creating laws for the lawless." I could hear him smile. "Modern laws are a contract with members of its society. And if you want to live within its bounds, you must comply or else others may force you to comply when you egregiously violate the terms. It's the same here, Emily. We just got different laws and different methods to punish those who don't follow said laws." The last part he said with a serious pitch in his voice, you could hear that he meant what he said – this club, this anarchy was his life.

I put my underwear on, then the jeans that was when I heard "What did you buy? For the money your mother and father left you?" He asked with a cautious voice, now knowing how fragile I would be.

I was silent for a couple of minutes, and then I opened the door, with my tank-top still in my hand, and said "I bought my beloved store, the only thing that keeps me sane in this land, in this place." I alluded to Charming and to USA. Juice turned around from looking at the door, to look at me. He was about to turn around again, but I said "It is okay; I bet you have seen a girl in a bra before…" A genuine smile plastered my face, how could I not smile? Juice was more of a gentleman than Jax, hell I'll bet even more the whole club! And he asked genuine questions, like he really cared.

"What do you sell?" He sat on a wooden chair that was stowed away in the corner.

"I sell books and antiques, not expensive stuff…" A laughed briefly slipped through my lips, and then I put on the black tank-top; I could feel my hair was almost dry, curling in soft curls.

"What's the name of your store?" He smiled this boyish grin again; he was definitely not like Jax.

"Rubies & Books." I said it with pride, the store's name represented me, and it referred to the "gems" you could buy, in form of antiques. "Why are you here?" Not as in 'Why are you in this room?' because I very well knew the answer. He seemed out of place here with the club, with Jax. He looked at me and answered, well not answered, but said "I think it's time for you to eat. The food is getting cold." I snorted "You seem so out of place, Juice. You're different from Jax that I can tell, but then again, you're just like him, just like the others." I was treading dangerous water here, not knowing if he had a temperament just like Jax or if he was easier to get along with.

He reached for the plate with the food "Here, you should eat; you haven't eaten since yesterday…"  
I took the plate and sat on the bed, starting to eat. "So you're the club's bloodhound; the one who find people whether they want to be found or not." It was more of a statement than a question. Still sitting on the chair in the corner, he looked at me and nodded. "But _you_ were very hard to find, and Jax was eager to find you, so were the club. At last it became a game of hide-and-seek. But it all made perfect sense, because when your father died; the worry for you being found died with him. Your mother's lacking concern and her death was the reason we found you." I looked at him with sorrow in my eyes, I knew he was about to ask a sensitive question. And so it went, he continued "One thing we couldn't quite figure out is what happened to your mother after your father died?"

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**The lyrics that are used is "Jump the gun", by Tim Christensen.**

**I'm determined that my story is going to be a slow-burn FanFiction, because I hate when characters jump into bed with each other after 2 chapters :P**

******Follow, Favourite and review - if you like :)**

******Suggestions are more than welcome! **


	5. A Dark Past

**Thanks to the two guest reviews, when I saw them I instantly started to write this chapter! :) **

**I'm well over 2,000 views in total, thanks to all of you! 3**

**I don't own anything, besides from Emily!  
**

**Again: My grammar is not the best in the world, so bear over with me.**

**Oh by the way, most of this chapter is a flashback, and then there's a flashback in the first flashback :) And then at the end we get to the present, where Emily is sitting in the bedroom with Juice. **

**I just wanted that one cleared out so there's no misunderstandings ;) **

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"_But you were very hard to find, and Jax was eager to find you, so were the club. At last it became a game of hide-and-seek. But it all made perfect sense, because when your father died; the worry for you being found died with him. Your mother's lacking concern and her death was the reason we found you." I looked at him with sorrow in my eyes, I knew he was about to ask a sensitive question. And so it went, he continued "One thing we couldn't quite figure out is what happened to your mother after your father died?"_

_Tell me mother, will I die.  
Yes my child and so shall I.  
And never know the reason why,  
little black flowers grow, in the sky.  
In the sky._

Three more years, there was only three bloody years left for my father to be released. I knew that when he was released again, we would become the happy family we always had been. But then the worst possible thing happened. He died, my dad – oh dear Lord – no he didn't die, he was man slaughtered in Stockton Prison, by an inmate. They didn't know who, and the cameras were accidently 'down' – I'm sure they weren't down, I'm sure someone in Stockton Prison was corrupt – no! This whole fucking city was corrupt! The police, the bar owners, hell even the shopkeepers!

And because of the manslaughter, my whole family and I were sitting on the benches in our local church. I was 20 years at the time, practically a woman, but a life without my dad had changed me, yes I looked like a woman, but I was feeling like a small child inside. The mascara I carefully had put on this morning was smeared under my eyes, and the white handkerchief was more black and wet, than white and dry. I hated funerals, I had been to two, but that was years before my dads, and I hated it. A six feet deep grave was waiting when the ceremony was over, it would swallow the coffin, and my dad too. Even the mere thought made me cry again. Eight years of having his brain scooped out and his memories put in a blender until they resembled coarse, black bile; that made him an empty man. He only had my mom and me to think of, but now he was free, finally. I thought of the last time I saw him alive.

* * *

We were in the familiar huge room, with lots of tables and chairs. It was five months before his death; I was living in a fool's paradise, completely unaware of what was to happen. I was like the other times, sitting in front of him, holding his hands.

"My sweet, sweet Emily…" He said, and smiled, but he looked more like a man who had been dragged to hell and back; his face even more worn out, and more wrinkles showing. "You and your mother… I love you both very deeply. Your hearts, oh your heart Emily, I'm grateful that you can love me even when I'm not very loveable."

"Dad…" I stuttered, at the brink of tears. "What is it you're saying, I don't understand…"

"Oh sweetheart, I've done terrible things, things that not even the devil, himself would want to resurrect. My delicate heart might give up on me, but it beats for you and your mother, and Emily I assure you the rest of me is dead."

I grabbed his hands tighter than before, tears rolling down my cheeks.

"I don't want you or your mother to visit me anymore, it's too dangerous…" He looked at me, with his old eyes; he knew I was about to object, so he said. "My sweet darling, you have to understand that goodbye may seem forever. Farewell is like the end. But in my heart are the memories... And there you and mom always will be."

That was when I realized that the thought of my mom or I getting hurt, ate him, scraping away at a half-healed scab and it was starting to fester. This was when I realized that the man sitting in front of me, my dad, was an empty shell collecting dust.

* * *

The church bells started to ring and the choir began to sing:

_Get six of my comrades to carry my coffin,  
Six of my comrades to carry me on high;  
And six young maidens to carry white roses,  
So they won't smell me as they pass me by._

My dad's favorite song, it made the tears falling faster. It was like a stream of tears and it felt like it had no intentions of stopping ever again.

As the coffin was carried out, I cried, saying weakly "Dad… Oh dad, how could they do this?"  
I was sobbing as we walked behind the six men, carrying my dad's coffin, the choir still singing the sad song. When we reached the grave, my legs was about to give up on me. The six men sat the coffin down, which was our signal; we would put the white roses down on top of the coffin, and it would be all over. As I was about to put my white rose on the coffin, I broke down; how could I continue to live without my dad, my father?! "Dad…?" I barely whispered.

After my dad passed away, it went downhill. The first weeks we both shared in tears; we didn't understand how someone could take the life of a loving father and husband. When we felt like we couldn't shed more tears, cheeks sore, it became worse; my mom started to drink. And you might think that it couldn't be that bad, but it wasn't just beers she drank; no she drank whisky and brandy, whenever she could get a hold of it. She became the broken image of the wonderful woman that she used to be. And I was the one to pick up the shattered pieces of the illusion she had; and illusion of a carefree world, a world where she could live in peace and harmony.

Not even a year after my dad's funeral, I was burying my beloved mother. That was when life and stability tumbled around me; like a palace built of cards. That day I could have died as well and no one would have noticed. I moved out of my parent's house, I couldn't stand being there anymore; so I rented a small apartment, trying to move on, but forgetting, moving on and living was a hell of a lot easier said than done. My savior was music and my store. I listened to music everywhere I went; it seemed to subdue my pain and sorrow, for the time being.

_Dear Lord it took so many of my people,  
I'm just wondering why you haven't taken my life  
What the hell am I doin' right?_

* * *

"My… Mom started to drink; she found it hard to make a mausoleum a home… You drink enough and reality just becomes a faded world with a million problems that you don't have to be a part of for the time being. That's what my mom thought. Like it wasn't bad enough that my dad was in prison, when he died… It was like someone was twisting a knife into her already tender heart." I looked at Juice, recalling what happened after my dad's death; tears falling ever so slowly from my chin onto my lap. "She was just like my dad, an empty shell collecting dust." I tried to smile, but it ended out to be one sad smile. "Juice, my mother had demons in her head…"

Juice got up from the chair and walked over to the bed; where I was sitting. Then he sat down, and out of nowhere he laid his arms around me, just like a comforting hug.

"Shh, don't cry; it'll be all right. Nothing bad is going to happen to you, I promise. We'll protect you, no one is going to harm you." He was talking with a soothing voice, while he caressed my back.

I started to whisper something, but it all came like sobs. "I watched the light leave from my loved one's eyes, while all I could do was sit there and pray, and hold their hand and begging to someone that wouldn't listen, to bring them back. Twice…!"

* * *

**I used three songs this time :D **

**"Black Flowers", by Chris Isaak**

**"The Trooper Cut Down In His Prime", preformed by Laura Smyth & Ted Kemp.**

**"My Life", By JJ.**

**In the next chapter you'll get to know why Emily's dad ended up in prison :) Any guesses? ;)**

******Follow, Favourite and review - if you like :)**

******Suggestions are more than welcome! **


	6. Young Boys

**Hello again. First: Thanks to Forevermore21 for the reviews. And I really forgot to say thank you to all those who have favourite and followed - THANKS! :D **

**I nearly got 2,000 views in total - that's impressive for me - I'm so happy :D**

**And this I a 2,000 words long chapter, so you're in for a treat ;) **

**In the ending I'm changing from 1st person narrator to 3rd person narrator - just so you know ;) **

**But with no further ado! **

* * *

_Juice got up from the chair and walked over to the bed; where I was sitting. Then he sat down, and out of nowhere he laid his arms around me, just like a comforting hug._

"_Shh, don't cry; it'll be all right. Nothing bad is going to happen to you, I promise. We'll protect you, no one is going to harm you." He was talking with a soothing voice, while he caressed my back. _

_I started to whisper something, but it all came like sobs. "I watched the light leave from my loved one's eyes, while all I could do was sit there and pray, and hold their hand and begging to someone that wouldn't listen, to bring them back. Twice…!"_

_If I go crazy then will you still call me Superman?  
If I'm alive and well, will you be there holding my hand?  
I'll keep you by my side with my superhuman might  
Kryptonite_

"Well, well, well isn't that our own little Juicy Boy, gettin' all cozy with the lady in our custody…?" Said a greasy voice. I pulled apart from Juice, and I must admit that a hug and some comforting words was somehow what I needed. But what I saw, when I turned around was a man in his late forties, black curly hair, and he had a striking nose; not one you could miss to see. My eyes skimmed the rest of his body; no visible tattoos, but I was sure that he had some underneath the clothes and the cut. I stood up to look more defending and confident, even though I knew that I hadn't got a chance with this man.  
"Oh Juicy Boy I understand why you're gettin' all cozy with her…" He said while checking me out and giving me the elevator look. "If she wasn't in our custody, and having a deal with us, she would make a hell of a crow eater…" I looked at Juice for some kind of help, I felt disgusted, and this man standing before me was at least 20 years older than me. "Tig…!" Was all he said, but that name rang a bell: Tig… Oh yeah, this bastard was the one smashing my head against the counter top; at the mere thought my fists clenched. Since I stood a small distance from the bed's frame, Tig walked to my side to check my backside out. "Mmm… Petite; nice tits and a nice ass, but Juicy you know you ain't gonna get her…" Then he winked at me; the wink had an internal message for Juice that I knew nothing of. A whistle accompanied the wink. "Damn girl you really deserve that body…" All I could see in his blues eyes, was lust; pure lust – filthy bastard. Then he smacked my bottom. I got furious and impulsive, my temper I certainly got from my dad.  
"Then I believe you deserve this…" He looked at me, with a confused look, and asked "What…?" He didn't even get two seconds before my fist made contact with his nose, and a small crack was heard, along with Juice saying "Ouch..."  
Blood started to run down from Tig's nose, and my knuckles were slightly cracked and bloody, but before I could taste the sweet victory, his hands clenched around my wrists; making my hands turn white, slowly. I yelped in pain, trying to free my hands from his strong grip. "Release me, bastard!" I shouted at him, but it didn't do must, other than him gripping tighter than before. I looked at Juice again, with a pleading look. "Juice, please…" Tig laughed, and said "Already begging, you must be a hell of fun in bed…" Then he brought me closer to him, so close I could smell his cheep cologne and bad beer breath.

When I thought Tig was about to do something vulgar, Juice stepped beside me, trying to get between Tig and me. "Tig, you know Jax needs her alive, and she's no good if she's dead _or_ harmed." Juice said in a convincing voice. Tig looked at me, and the lust that was in his eyes before, was now replaced by anger and rage. It didn't seem like he was releasing my wrists. "Tig! Release her! Jax _and_ Clay will personally kill you, if you kill or harm her! We lose 30,000 dollars!" The mention of huge amount of money seemed to work, because Tig immediately released my wrists.

"Jax wants you out!" Tig said, before he walked out of the room, waiting just outside the door. I looked at Juice, saying 'Thanks' without saying it with sound. Then I whispered "Juice, there's no deo in my bag or perfume, do you have any I could use?" It was a bit embarrassing to ask for a man's deo and perfume; but in the Californian sun it was needed. Out in the sun I would be fried like a BBQ chicken and smell worse than a pigsty in less than 5 minutes. "Sure…" He said. "Tig, give us five." There was no 'Okay', just an insulted groan. For two seconds Juice was gone, and then returned with a perfume in his hand. "Here you go." I took the perfume and escaped to the bathroom once again.

Once I was out in the bedroom again, Juice looked at me and said: "Jax has called to a meeting. And thereafter you're going home. So it's best if you just sit and wait."

"Wait, don't I need to know what you're discussing?" We walked from the bedroom, which apparently was Jax's, into a narrow corridor, with lots of doors. I knew I was in their clubhouse; I knew that because I could hear multiple voices and the stereo banging. "Club meetings ain't for women!" Tig grunted. Tig led the way, like a prison guard, guarding the prisoner; which was me. When we entered a larger room; probably the bar and sitting area, everybody looked at me, it made me feel like I was some rare monkey in zoo. Juice led me to a couch where I could wait 'till the club was done discussing whatever they were to discuss.

As I sat there, I looked around, and what I saw was awfully clad women, and vulgar men; groping every inch of the women; grandpa would call these ladies: Girls of the night, but they were both girls of the night _and _day. Then my gaze stumbled upon a small boy. Oh dear Lord above, what was an angel doing among devils? He was the cutest boy I had ever laid my eyes on; he had this sandy blonde hair, blue eyes and my guess would be that he was about 3, maybe 4 years old. Could this be the toddler in the photo, in Jax's room? Well, he was running around, near the lady, who was in the other photo from Jax's room; grayish stripe. Then I looked away from the small child; I didn't want to stare.

5 minutes passed by, until I felt a small tug at my trouser leg. I was ripped out of my thoughts of what was to become of me. What I saw was this small child, I had looked at just 5 minutes ago; he was smiling at me, a big goofy smile, almost got all of his teeth out.

"Hi there…" I said, smiling at the boy – didn't want to scare him away.

"Hmm… Hi… Grandma', she didn't want you to… Umm… Put blood spots on the carpet…" Was all he said, before he handed me a semi-wet rag. I looked dumbfounded at him, for what use did I need a wet rag? He seemed to read my face perfectly, because he took my hand in his small one. "You are hurt… Ouch…" I looked down at my hand, to see that the cracked skin leaked blood, and some of it was about to hit the carpet, if it wasn't stopped. Then I felt the wet rag make contact with my knuckles; I smiled genuine. "What a gentleman you are, ha?" The boy looked up at me "Yeah dad taught me that…" He smiled a big and proud smile.

"Who's your daddy?" I asked, smiling sweetly. Even though I already knew the answer, I had to ask, just to confirm my suspicion.

"Well… um… I'm not supposed to talk to strangers…" He was well-mannered, no doubt about it.

I giggled shortly and then said "Well, I'm not supposed to too. But if I tell you my name, than we aren't strangers anymore, right?" I smiled at him. "Umm… Well, suppose not…"

"Goodie, I'm Emily, but if you want to, you can call me Em." I put my hand out for him to shake it. "My name is Abel…" Answered Abel, while was shaking my now less-blooded hand. Then he continued answering the first question, about who his father was. "My dad is the best! He has got a lot of tattoos, and… and blond hair like mine." He then pointed to his head, where his sandy blond hair was. "Who is your daddy…?" What an innocent question, the boy didn't know a thing.

* * *

_There's a blind man in the witness stand  
With three young men's lives in his hands  
There's a poor boy who stood at the scene  
Who'll be haunted by the dirty things he's seen_

"All raise for Judge Miller" A voice said, and the people in court rose, while Miller stepped to his chair. And when he sat, all the people did too.

"We're here this day, to solve the crime committed in Charming, on the date of the 4th of November. The first and only witness to call upon is Mr. Clark. Would Mr. Clark please come to the witness stand?" Judge Miller said.

A companion of Mr. Clark, helped Clark to the witness stand, at the age of 65 years; he had lost his sight and could not see a thing. But even though he couldn't see a thing, his hearing was almost perfect, but could this bring the accused to justice?  
Among the people who were in the courthouse that day, there was a poor boy; James O'Neal. He was one of two who stood at the scene, but it was decided that he was too young to be a witness, but O'Neal had been questioned by police officers. Three young men were accused of rape and murder of a girl; she was found in a dark alley cold and bruised. Oh poor James O'Neal, he would be haunted by the dirty things he'd seen.

After hours of questioning back and forth; the three young men were found innocent and they were set free. What the people didn't know was the jury knew the accused and in addition to that they found a blind man's evidence too thin, and testimony that James O'Neal had told the police officers were not good either, because of James O'Neal's young age.

15 years after the trial the three accused men were found dead; the police concluded that they were all intoxicated when they were shot, and that they maybe in an accident could have shot each other. First five years after the murder of the three men, James O'Neal was convicted of murder, and he pleaded guilty; he was the one who pulled the trigger. He gave them retribution for raping and killing the poor girl. Right after the conviction, O'Neal was sent to Stockton prison to serve his sentence; his little girl was to grow up without a father at home, and his wife was to wait for his release. James O'Neal was only 35 years old, when he was sent to prison. His sentence was not lifetime because it took a long time to solve the crime, and because he was merely a child.

* * *

I smiled sweetly at Abel. "My daddy Abel was just like yours: the best. He was my superman; saving people when others couldn't."

* * *

**The lyrics I used this time was:**

**"Ballad Of Mr. Jones", By Jake Bugg**

**"Kryptonite", By 3 Doors Down.**

**I hope you got that Emily's father in that moment was like the Sons, fighting crime - and she somehow just has realised that.**

**Follow, favourite and review if you'd like ;) **


	7. The Ride

**I'm sorry for the delay, but sometimes life get real. And it just did for me... Very real...**

**But I want to say thanks to those of you who have read, followed, favourite and reviewed my story! Sending lots of love to you guys! :)**

**I just have a minor shout-out, and that's that it would be nice with any kind of review; Either constructive criticism or something positive. Just so I know where I'm at, and if you even like it at all. **

**By the way, I'm not following the storyline - I will mix and match whatever I like and whoever I like, with my own imagination. **

* * *

_I smiled sweetly at Abel. "My daddy Abel was just like yours: the best. He was my superman; saving people when others couldn't."  
_

_I want to chase my dreams  
But you just punish me  
I lost myself inside the lies and wicked ways  
I'm starting to believe  
You'll be the death of me  
But all I see is the reflection of the enemy_

_It's not my family_  
_I'd still be damage even if I grew up perfectly_  
_It's something deep inside_  
_Something I can't explain_  
_It's like I've got a disease without a fucking name  
_

"Em, what are you doing here?" Abel asked, very innocently.

What could I tell him? What should I tell him? Obviously not the truth; a white lie was okay, just this one time.  
I couldn't get myself to tell him the truth; poor boy.  
If I told him the truth what would it sound like?  
_Well, listen up Abel, daddy's been bad, really bad; he kidnapped me. And Tig, he hurt me. All for some money I don't know anything of.  
_Hell, money Jax or the club didn't need. They only needed the money to keep their reputation undamaged. For what if one of the other clubs did found out that SAMCRO was giving money away? All hell would break loose – SAMCRO would become vulnerable.  
I knew I would regret what I was about to say, but I would rather regret saying something, than end up dead, because that's what I would be if I told the truth.

"Umm… Well Abel…" I started, and swallowed the lump in my throat. "I lent some money from your daddy, because I had none. So your daddy was kind and generous enough to lend me some." I smiled at him, hoping he was buying the white lie. He smiled shortly, sort-of indicating he bought the lie.

"Yup…" He said, making a popping noise with the 'p'. "My dad's really sweet!" He continued; you could tell he was very proud of his dad. He then went on asking. "Then why's your hand broken?"  
I looked down at my right hand; the one that caused Tig's nose to say a loud crack and start to bleed. The wet rag still pressed against my knuckles.

"Tig wasn't nice to me… So I hit him." I said carefully. I watched his mouth go like and 'O', followed by an "Oh…". I could see he was concerned whether Tig was okay or not, so I said: "But he's alright. He a full-grown man, he can handle more than a punch from me… And I didn't hit that hard…"

We sat there; Abel on the carpet and me on the couch, for several minutes, without saying a thing. That was until I felt like someone was staring a whole into me with their gaze. I looked around; and what I found was the woman with the grayish stripe in her hair; looking at me, with a menacing look. Like telling me, not to say anything harmful or something that would make Abel think bad about the club members.

"Abel, dear… I think it time for you to go back with the rag, and back to the others…" I said quietly, keeping my voice as low as possible. "Why?" He asked: "I like talking with you, why can't I stay?"

"I like talking to you too, but I think it's best if you go back to the others; they look concerned." I said; feeling sorry for him, but somehow I had to disappoint him. "But I'm sure either you or I can come around some time or another." Abel sighed deeply and said: "Yeah, okay…" and then he left; went back to the woman, who gave him a hug. Abel's a lovely boy, no doubt about it; a real angel.

30 minutes went by; me sitting on the couch doing nothing; and the doing nothing was only interrupted when I decided to take a look around. And most times I regretted even taking a look, 'cause what I saw was sickening. Gradually as the meeting went on, even more and more scantily clad women passed the threshold. Suddenly the doors that were kept closed all time, opened and eight people came out. Some of the men went to the bar, others went to the women; and then there was this man who went to the woman, with the grayish stripe and Abel. That man must be the one talking with Jax, just before Jax entered the bedroom, what was his name? Oh yeah Clay – that's right. He had gray hair; almost matching that woman's stripe, had a broad jaw and a set of old and worn-out eyes; just like my dad's and at last his forehead was covered with wrinkles. What all the men had in common, was the cut that they wore, with the reaper on the bag, but what I could see from my position, was that some of the patches were different from each other. Before I could take a closer look at the patches, I was brought out of my thoughts by Jax.

"Darlin' we're done now. And it's time for you to go home…" Was all he said; nothing about the meeting or what my fate was to be, with them bringing cargo back and forth. I looked up at him; simply nodding before I stood up from the semi-comfortable couch. This was my chance; I took a look at his patches. One said 'V. President', another said 'Men of Mayhem'; the first was obviously enough, but the second was a tricky one. Then there was one saying 'Redwood Original' and a larger one running across the side saying 'SAMCRO'.  
I could guess one out of four – _way to go Emily_. His voice brought me out of my thoughts… Again… With saying: "You smell a lot like our Juice; did you two do something we don't know of?" Jax was smirking at me; we stood close enough to each other for him to smell the perfume Juice lent me.  
"I'd rather smell of Juice, than smell like that other bastard!" I said with a venomous voice, referring to Tig, and how he smelled. But instead of being angry; as I thought he would be, Jax laughed at what I said. I don't know if it was genuine or what, but I told the truth.

Before I could go home, I had to fetch the bag with some of my clothes. As I went back to Jax's bedroom, I kept staring at the ground; I didn't want to make eye contact with any of them; especially not that lady, who apparently was Jax's mom. She looked like she could kill me, right on the spot; I didn't even make eye contact with Abel, even though I wanted to.  
When I returned with my bag in my hands, I followed Jax outside the clubhouse, where lots of bikes were lined up; all Harley Davidson's… Dyna – if I'm not quite wrong.

"You need to put a jacket on." Jax hoarse voice said. I switched from looking at the bikes, to look at Jax.

"Jacket? Aren't we going to drive in a car?" I asked. Why would I need a jacket, if we were going to ride a car?

"Oh darlin' I ain't riding a car, when I can ride a bike." His Californian accent clear to hear. "So the faster you put that jacket on; the faster you can get back home!" I could hear in his voice that he was getting annoyed with me; with all my asking.

"First: Someone forgot to put a jacket in the bag – so I got none!" I enunciated the last part. "Second I'm not going to ride on a bike with you!"

Jax took off his cut, and then unzipped his hoodie. "Here you go; then the first problem is solved." He handed me his hoodie, and stepped a few steps closer to me, continued in a low and dangerous voice: "And you're either riding with me… or… the so-called bastard!"

I looked at where Tig stood; a big, fat smirk was plastered on his face. That bastard knew what Jax's terms were. I took Jax's hoodie from him with a tug, and then put it on, alongside with the bag.  
The sun was setting, and the sky had a beautiful pink and orange color. As I was standing there looking at the skies, I felt something was placed on my head; instantly I looked at Jax, and into his ice blue eyes. That was when I noticed that it was a helmet he had placed and strapped onto my head, and I blushed.

"Oh sweetheart, you're all blushing up, just for me…" He said with a teasing voice, but I just snorted at him and said "As if!"

"Okay Tig, we're good to go!" He shouted at Tig, who was groping on a girl, while kissing her. "You'll have plenty of time, when we return." He laughed while saying it, and he then straddled the bike. "Come on Darlin', jump on and hold onto me, if you don't want to fall off while riding." Before straddling the bike, I tugged the sleeves of the hoodie up a bit, because they were too long. Then I just loosely grabbed at the side of his cut; I didn't want to make too much contact with him, after that embarrassing moment from before. Jax uttered a snickered laugh, and thereafter said:

"Oh come on! Don't be so shy – I know you want to." And then he grabbed my hands, and placed them on his lower abdomen; right above his belt buckle. _Ohh my… That's some nice abs. Oh cut the crap Emily – You're not supposed to fall for him or even like him!_

As we rode down the roads, I clung to him even more – I'm sure that it looked like I was afraid to fall off. But truth was; it had been years since I sat on a bike. The last time was when I was about 11 years old; 2 years before my dad's arrest; but then I was in front of my dad, and not behind him, like I was behind Jax now. I still had his old Indian Chief in the back of my garage; covered with a white sheet.

* * *

**The lyrics used was**

**"The Enemy", By Papa Roach.**

**On my profile I put a link for the bike, so you all know what it looks like...**

**Again: I'm open for suggestions :)**

**Follow, favourite and review! :)**


	8. Fucking Prick

**A hugs thanks to Tizza94 - You're truly a darling! 3**

******But I want to say thanks to those of you who have read, followed, favourite and reviewed my story! Sending lots of love to you guys! :)**

**My story almost got 5,000 views - I never imagined that, or the fact that somebody is reading my work and somehow liking it!  
**

**It would be nice with some kind of response, even if it's only a "Great" or "Sucks" - I would appreciate it either way!**

**Just so you are aware of it, there are some swearwords in this chapter; but then again the story is rated "M" so it's expected.**

* * *

_As we rode down the roads, I clung to him even more – I'm sure that it looked like I was afraid to fall off. But truth was; it had been years since I sat on a bike. The last time was when I was about 11 years old; 2 years before my dad's arrest; but then I was in front of my dad, and not behind him, like I was behind Jax now. I still had his old Indian Chief in the back of my garage; covered with a white sheet. _

_When these pillars get pulled down  
It will be you who wears the crown  
And I'll owe everything to you_

_How much pain has cracked your soul?  
How much love would make you whole?_

I lived in the outskirts of Charming; from one of my apartment's windows you could see the familiar sign.

_Thank you for visiting Charming.  
Our Name says it all.  
Population – 14,679_

And if you read thorough; you could read the letters: _SAMCRO_.  
Charming town was SAMCRO's territory, and the other clubs better keep far away from here. Like Charming was SAMCRO's, Lodi was the Nords'; they are White Supremacists. And somehow they have established a meth lab in Lodi, from where they're selling meth. The Nords had once tried to sell meth in Charming, but the dealers were brutally beaten, and I heard that one of them even got his one balls impaled, by Charming's very own Jackson Teller.  
Where the Nords are a street gang, the Mayans are a motorcycle club, just as SAMCRO are. The Mayans controls parts of California, and all of Nevada. They are trading drugs, just like the Nords do, and prostitutes. Their cuts spread terror and fear whenever seen; mostly among the Hispanic part of the population. It is all because of what phrase their cuts bear: _Los Asesinos de Dios_ – which apparently means _Assassins of God._**  
**Pretty scary if you ask me.

The motorcycles came to halt; we had stopped at a crossroad controlled by traffic lights. I loosened my grip on Jax just a bit; I didn't want to seem clingy or completely helpless. Suddenly out of nowhere a big SUV stopped right beside us, and worst of all; its engine revved up, indicating its driver wanted to race against us on the open road. Seconds after the SUV revved up; I felt the motorcycle hum, and that sent shivers down my spine. Oh dear no! I lightly shook my head, while saying: "No, Jax… No!" But with the helmet on and the revving I was sure he couldn't hear a damn thing. Once again I found myself clinging and holding onto him; even more than before, because I knew we were going to ride fast to beat this SUV. Next thing I know was us, on the bike, driving 90 mph down the straight road. I kept my lips tight or else I would have screamed; I did for certain not expect this to happen. My hair was blowing wildly with the wind – I was sure it was dry, when we got to my store, and I might look like hell, with hair all over my face. Jax's hair wasn't windy at all, even though his hair was long as well; it was all in perfect place, mostly because it was gelled back.

When both the SUV and the bike came to halt; I once again loosened my grip on Jax, only to take care of my windy hair. I could hear Tig's bike roaring in the background, and then it came to stop right behind Jax's bike. While I got my hair under control; the driver apparently had rolled the car window down. And right now he was looking straight at us; his eyes flickering between me and Jax.  
I couldn't get a glimpse of his eye color, because he was wearing sunglasses. But he was a well built man, with tanned skin and then he was completely bald. Not a bad looking man at all, but not just my type; I like men with… well… more hair on their heads.

"Well done!" Said the man behind the wheel; then I believed his eyes skimmed the bike, before they landed on me. "Nice bike and nice girl!"

Was every freaking guy, in this freaking town, looking at girls like they were pieces of meat, they could buy at the butcher's?!  
Before I could object, he continued: "If ya ever get tired of her, just send her to me. She looks like she could give you the night of your life."  
Helloooo! I'm right here, can't you see me?! He was talking about me, like I was nowhere to be seen, and that definitely made me angry; all I wanted to do was smash his head against the steering wheel.

"Tig, what do ya' think?" Jax said, while looking back at Tig. Was he kidding me?! Jax's voice snapped me out of my murderous thoughts, and into the real world.

"Well…" He was saying it slowly; like he knew it was agonizing to wait for an answer. "She is a little spitfire, but I think it would be more fun to keep her, and torment her." He said it with this smug grin of his. "Wouldn't it?"

Jax looked from Tig, and then to me, and then at last back at the driver. "Do you know what? I think I'll hold onto her just for a bit longer." He didn't mean it in an affectionately way; he only meant it in the respect of the money I owned him, and maybe he found the mere thought of tormenting me fun. And before the man in the SUV could say another word, Jax hit the throttle, and then Tig too. And we were off into the night, once again.  
After about 30 minutes we arrived in front of my store; it's a small white painted building, with a blue door. At the back of the building there are stairs leading down, and an old rusty door, which leads to the basement. Across the street there's a two storey red brick house, with a flat roof. On the first floor there lived a nice elderly lady, who had been so kind to rent me the second storey. Mrs. Smith, the elderly lady, was half deaf; so you could practically do _anything,_ and she wouldn't hear it. In return, you could hear her TV in the evening, she turns the sound up, so loud so she can hear it, but it doesn't bother me.

Suddenly I could feel some fingers near my chin; it was Jax, again, trying to take off the helmet. But I snapped his fingers away, saying: "I don't need your help; I can take the helmet off myself!"

"Oh but Darlin', I know you like it." He had this big boyish grin plastered on his face. He was teasing me.

"Don't ever call me that again!" I spat at him. I was getting tired of him calling me names, like it didn't mean anything to him. Like I was another toy to play with, and when I was played with, I was being tossed away.  
I took the helmet off and shoved it in his chest saying an angry "Here!"  
He took the helmet and hanged it alongside his, on the handle. After that he shoved his hand forward, with the palm facing upwards. I looked at him; I'm sure I looked like one, giant question mark. "Keys." Was all he said, why did he need my keys? "You wouldn't be seen bringing _our_ goods into _your_ basement, wouldn't you?" I shook my head, and then handed the keys to him; and Jax threw them to Tig. "What?! I don't trust him enough to let him go into my basement!" I looked at Jax with an open mouth, and I could see that Tig was awaiting orders, because it was Jax who was in charge. "Again, would you rather have Tig staying here with you, alone?" He gave me a stern look. Again I shook my head. "Great then it's solved, Tig go ahead. Then I'll make sure that Miss O'Neal knows how we're playing." That meant telling me what to do, and what not to do; nothing would be up for negotiation.  
Tig left to put the things in the basement that he had brought with him. Meanwhile Jax and I went inside my store; it wasn't the biggest store, to the left there was antiques and in the back, near the cash register the books were on big mahogany shelves. Behind the cash register there were two doors; one lead to a small toilet, while the other lead to my workshop, where I repainted and restored some of the furniture.  
I had walked to a table, from where I was leaning my hands on; waiting for Jax to tell my something - anything.

"So Miss O'Neal." I don't know if he said my last name to make it a formality or to prevent saying "Darlin'". "Once in a while my boys will be coming around to put some of our goods in your basement or attic. And there's _nothing_ you can do to prevent it from happening!" He said, and emphasized the word "nothing"; so I was sure how much I could do. "And there are some few rules _you_ _have_ to follow. One: Never ask what they are bringing. Two: Never tell anyone what's in your basement or attic. Three: Never enter without at least one of my boys. It's as simple as this."

"So now I'm at your beck and call?! If that's what I am, then it would be easier with a fucking dog!" I spat angrily at him. "And furthermore wouldn't it be easier to kill me, and run this store yourself?!" I was angry at him, how dare he come into my life, ruin it and then expect me to comply with his wishes?!

"Oh no, if we killed you, this game of ours would be over, and the other gangs would know what's really going on." He stepped a few steps closer to me, and all I could do was basically nothing, because I was already leaning against the table. "And yeah a dog would be pretty nice, but I think I'd prefer you more." He continued with a huskier voice, and stepped even closer. That set off what I was about to do; I clenched my hand till it resembled a fist. Then my fist was about to make contact with his cheek, when he caught my wrist. His grip was firm; and before I knew it, he had twisted my arm, so my back was facing him. Worst of all was that he was stepping even closer to me, so his front was against my backside.

"Don't play games with me. Don't ever, ever think you're capable of that, Miss O'Neal!" He whispered in my ear with that rough, husky voice. And I must admit that if I weren't angry with him, I could have found it sexy.  
"I can understand it's frustrating to have your life torn apart and re-assembled, but in _my_ town, we play by _my_ rules! And I don't care if you even want to be a part of this, you probably won't, but my club need the money _your _father owns us, and you will have to pay it!"

I could feel his warm breath on my ear and neck, but his angry voice and threats didn't stop me from defying him. They were right in high school, when they said: _"There's a sliver of ice in his heart, and with a history as tragic as his all of the empathy in the world wouldn't be able to cover it."_  
He didn't need empathy; he needed vengeance, only that would set him free.

"Whoa, did I miss something?" It was Tig asking with a silly voice, and the grin on his face matched the voice. All I wanted to say was: _"Fuck off!"_ – But I kept my mouth shut; I think I have made enough trouble… For tonight.

"Miss O'Neal and I just had I little disagreement, but we're good now. Aren't we?" Jax whispered the last part in my ear, still standing tremendously close to me. I just nodded and wished them away.

* * *

**The lyrics used is "I Belong To You" By Muse.**

**Again: I'm open for suggestions, both songs that you want me to use or scenes you want to see used here! **

**All YOU have to do is post 'em here or send a message to me :)**

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